Poem of the Day Project: “Petit, the Poet by Edgar Lee Masters”

This is a portion of The Spoon River Anthology, which I admit I’ve never read, but I love the rhythm and self-referential (as in poetry referencing poetry) tone of this section.

Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick,

Tick, tick, tick, like mites in a quarrel –

Faint imabics that the full breeze wakens –

But the pine tree makes a symphony thereof.

Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus,

Ballades by the score with the same old thought:

The snows and the roses of yesterday are vanished;

And what is love but a rose that fades?

Life all around me here in the village:

Tragedy, comedy, valor and truth,

Courage, constancy, heroism, failure –

All in the loom, and oh what patterns!

Woodlands, meadows, streams and rivers –

Blind to all of it all my life long.

Triolets, villanelles, rondels, rondeaus,

Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick,

Tick, tick, tick, what little iambis,

While Homer and Whitman roared in the pines.

(Disclaimer: I’m basing my poem choices on those I understand to be in the public domain. If I’ve made a mistake – which is very possible – and you own the copyright to a poem I have posted please e-mail me at igetabitobsessive@gmail.com and I will take the post down immediately.)


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